


No Rest for the Weary

by Red Charade (traciller)



Series: Coldwave Week 2016 [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coldwaveweek2016, Earth 2 - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Character, Len wishes he weren't, M/M, Mayor Len, Mayor Snart, Mention of blood, Mick is Len's hero, assassination attempt, dads!Coldwave, married!Coldwave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traciller/pseuds/Red%20Charade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mick takes a bullet for Len when his husband's bodyguards are too slow to react to an assassination attempt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Rest for the Weary

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Coldwave Week 2016 on Tumblr.
> 
> Day 3: Earth 2

“What do you mean I have to wait?”

“He’s in surgery, sir, you can’t see him right now. Please have a seat in the waiting room,” the nurse frowned at him.

“Do you know who I am?” Leonard Snart didn’t throw the weight of his title around often when he wasn’t doing something in his official capacity as mayor, but this was…a special circumstance.

“I know perfectly well who you are, Mr. Snart, but the rules still apply. Please go have a seat, unless you need a tranquilizer,” the nurse didn’t look or sound impressed with Len one iota, if the tone of her voice and the pierce of her dark eyes into his light eyes were anything to go by.

And had that been a threat? Where were his bodyguards when he needed protection from rogue nurses?

“I’ll remember this when making policy decisions for the city about nurses,” Len was being petulant at this point and he knew it. He had no intention of punishing her or anyone else just for doing their jobs and for keeping safety and sanitary protocols in place. Or…whatever it was that prevented him from seeing Mick after the man had taken a bullet for him…

What had he been thinking? That’s what the bodyguards were for! Not that…Len wanted anyone to get shot, but certainly not his husband.

“We’re unionized,” the nurse said as Len turned to leave, causing him to purse his lips as he swept into the waiting room and sat down to wait, jiggling his leg and leaning back in the seat.

“Sir…we’ve located your daughter and sister, they’re being brought here as we speak,” his personal assistant said. The man seemed worried Len was going to bite his head off, although that could be more the fact that he was shaken up after a member of the mayoral family had just been shot…by a bullet meant for the mayor himself. His assistant had been standing close enough to the action to get a front row seat.

Then again, Len had just unfairly hassled a nurse a moment ago so assuming he might bite off anyone’s head right now, while he was so worried and shaken up himself, wasn’t that strange, either.

“Thank you. Have a seat, too. Do you need something to drink? Water or coffee or…juice? I think they’ve got vending machines,” Len said, wanting to put the man at ease. After all, his PA did a lot for him on a daily basis and was still working despite what had just happened. Len had tried to send him home, but he’d insisted that Len would need him to handle things more than ever right now.

It was true, Len had to admit. He’d managed to coordinate with the bodyguards who were here and the hospital staff to keep out the press, he’d kept tabs on the bodyguards who’d split from the full unit to go get his sister and daughter so that Len would know what was going on with that and it wouldn’t be an added worry.

That wasn’t even the half of it and honestly Len was shocked that his PA didn’t need a tranquilizer at this point. He should show appreciation and consideration. He should probably also apologize to that nurse, but he was still feeling petulant about that.

Childish, but…well, he was worried and he was sure he wasn’t the first worried husband to throw themselves at her desk and insist on seeing someone who couldn’t be seen right then and then have a tantrum about it. Not that that’s an excuse, especially considering his high profile – he should set an example – but it was what it was.

“I’m fine, sir. Please don’t worry, I’m sure Mr. Rory will be fine. I heard he was cursing at the paramedics on the way here…”

Len looked up at his assistant, hoping his face didn’t look as vulnerable as Len felt inside right now, “I’m Mr. Rory, too, you know…”

He’d established himself as Leonard Snart before getting married, so for politics he kept his unmarried name, but in his personal life he went by Leonard Rory.

His assistant’s eyes softened, “I know, sir. Mick will be fine, he’s strong,”

Len looked down at the floor, “are you really sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’ll have some tea when your sister and daughter arrive, sir.”

“Alright…” Len wasn’t going to force him to eat or drink anything. For all he knew, maybe this was what his assistant needed in order to cope. To have something to concentrate on, to stay focused. Len knew that feeling, except…he had nothing to focus on except the memory of Mick on the ground, clutching his side and all that blood and his bodyguards swarming them and not letting Len get as close as he wanted.

He’d gotten close for a few moments, long enough for red to stain his hands. He looked down at them now, noticing some of the red still staining them. He had used wet wipes and a handkerchief, but he should probably properly wash them before Miranda got here.

Mick’s blood…

“Sir…why don’t you go to the washroom and wash your hands?” his PA’s tone was tentative and gentle. He must have seen what Len was looking at, seen the look on Len’s face.

Len must have looked like he was getting ready to freak out.

Nodding silently, he got up and two bodyguards accompanied him to the washroom while he washed his hands, being vigorous and using generous amounts of soap and hot water.

The stains washed away surprisingly easily. His husband’s blood washed down the drain, tinting the water red.

Blinking his eyes rapidly a few times, he sniffed once and went back out to the waiting room, sitting back down and let his PA handle everything else while he waited for a doctor or a nurse to come and tell him whether his husband was going to be alright or not.

While he waited to hear if his would-be assassin had been caught.

As he waited for his sister and his daughter to show up so he could see for himself they were okay.

Len was still staring off vacantly into space, one elbow resting on a chair arm and his hand covering the lower half of his face when he heard the sound of his daughter’s sneakers on the tile hospital floor and heard the sound of her voice calling, “Daddy!” as she ran to jump into his lap.

Ordinary sneakers a lot of kids wore, but he’d know his little girl’s steps anywhere.

Miranda jumping into his lap was enough to animate him again and he caught her immediately, pulling her up properly and giving her a hug, burying his nose in her frizzy dark hair, looking at the contrast between her mocha skin and his pale hands as he finally pulled her back a bit to look her over and ask a question he desperately needed to hear the answer from her.

“Hey, baby, are you alright?” he wasn’t even sure it was the right thing to ask. Was that alarming? Did anyone explain to her what was going on? He was supposed to be a rock for her right now and here he was panicking about his word choices.

“We’re okay. Aunt Lisa said Daddy got hurt, though…” Miranda’s tone was worried and Len hugged her again.

“Daddy’s in with the doctor right now, but yeah…he got hurt,” Len didn’t want to lie to her, but he didn’t want to tell her the whole story either. He didn’t want to scare her. She was seven and shouldn’t have to worry about this.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Miranda was a smart little girl and she knew that this was a lot of pomp and circumstance for a simple cold and that her other daddy was stubborn and didn’t go to the doctor every time he got a random injury.

“Miranda, come on, let’s get you a juice and some cookies,” Lisa said, coming over to guide the little girl off of Len’s lap and take her to a vending machine with two bodyguards accompanying them.

Len watched them go, even though they weren’t really going that far out of his sight. He was glad that Lisa had distracted her, it saved him from having to tell his daughter that he wasn’t sure if one of her parents was going t be okay or not. But, at the same time he really wanted to hug her again.

“Mr. Snart?” an unfamiliar voice asked, near the other entrance to the waiting room, and Len’s head whipped around so fast that he was surprised his bodyguards didn’t warn him about possible whiplash.

“Yes? What’s going on? Is my husband alright?” Len asked, as he got up and went over to this person, hoping they were addressing him because they had answers.

“I’m Dr. Francine Erly. The surgery is going to take a little longer, but everything is going well. The bullet didn’t hit anything important and there was a clear exit wound.” the woman said, one of Mick’s doctors, said without preamble. He really appreciated her straightforwardness with the information about his husband’s state. Except, it wasn’t a true answer to his question. 

“But, is he going to be alright?” Len repeated, not interested in dodging this question. He understood doctors and nurses didn’t like to answer this question, because it wasn’t always so cut-and-dried, among legal and ethical issues. But he needed to know.

“As things stand now, it looks good. I can’t make any promises, but his vitals are strong and he’s stable. And, like I said, there bullet did no damage to anything important. If things continue to progress like this, we’ll finish with the surgery in a little while and move him to a private room to wait for him to wake up.” Len was reassured by her confident tone.

God, Mick was lucky. Len had been so worried, there’d been so much blood and Mick had looked so pale. He’d never seen his husband with a look of that much pain, before.

“When will I be able to see him?” Len still hadn’t let that go. He rationally understood he couldn’t see Mick while they were working on him, but emotions weren’t rational.

“As soon as he wakes up. I recommend one person at a time and no more than three. He’ll still be very tired and he doesn’t need any excitement right now. He’ll need rest.”

“What about our daughter? She’s seven, I don’t think she should go in alone…” Len commented, because even if Mick was alright he was sure that to Miranda he would look different after having been shot and gone through surgery and just woken up from that. She’d never once before seen Mick weak.

“It may not be the best idea for a child to–”

“No, please. She has to be able to see her dad and know he’s okay. Even if it’s just for a minute or two…” Len wasn’t sure if begging for this was the right thing. After all Dr. Erly had probably seen a lot of patients with family in this exact situation with a kid and her recommendation was probably the best, but…all Len could anticipate was telling his daughter she couldn’t see her dad, even though everyone else could, and her already knowing something is very wrong.

Len felt like that would be confusing and terrifying to her, too. Dr. Erly was probably right in most cases, but she didn’t know Miranda.

“Alright. A couple of minutes, but Mr. Rory will need a lot of rest and an upset, crying child won’t be conducive to that,” the words themselves might be harsh, but her tone and the look on her face was anything but and Len couldn’t be upset with her.

“Thank you. We’ll be careful,” Len said, worried that despite her understanding if he copped an attitude right now she might just bar them all from seeing Mick until tomorrow. He wouldn’t be able to stand that, he’d go crazy with worry.

Not that he hadn’t already been doing that. But, it would be worse if he had to wait until tomorrow.

“Of course. We’ll let you know when you can see him,” Dr. Erly said before patting Len on the shoulder and giving him one more smile before she walked away.

Len sighed and went back to sitting down, at least until Lisa and Miranda came back to the waiting room and Len got up to take Lisa aside and explain what was going on in more detail, while Miranda sat next to his PA and ate her chips while he drank his tea.

Lisa gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek and told him everything would be fine, because Mick was too stubborn not to be okay. They both went back to sit near Miranda, where Lisa handed over her cell phone for her little niece to play a game on.

It quickly became apparent to Len that his and most people’s idea of “soon” was much, much different than that of an ER trauma doctor’s because it took literally hours before anyone would tell them anything again. Len thought that the nurses really might have given him some sort of sedative if they weren’t sure they would be tackled upon attempt, but Len couldn’t blame them for being exasperated with him. He was being unbearable and he knew it, but he couldn’t make himself behave. It was like watching a movie, even with his own behavior.

Still, he calmed down a little bit when Lisa sort of took charge of some things. He noticed her babying him and despite being the big brother he let her do it because he needed it and she’d basically left him no choice but to let her. His sister was a force to be reckoned with when she was caring for family. He was pretty sure even some of his bodyguards were afraid of her.

By the time anyone came to tell him it was alright to go in and see Mick it was passed 8pm and Miranda was asleep in his lap, head on his chest, and Len was leaned back in his chair with a crick in his neck, a twinge in his back, and staring at the ceiling as if he were asleep with his eyes open. His PA had been bullied into going home and getting some rest by Lisa and the woman herself was curled up on a chair nearby reading what Len thought might be a trashy romance novel. Either that, or a book on entomology. There was a butterfly on the cover and you just never could tell with Lisa.

It was torture to go so slowly now that he had the go-ahead to see Mick, though. But, he didn’t want to hurt or alarm their daughter. He had hoped to maybe not wake her up, even though earlier he’d insisted that she was to be allowed to see her other dad for a few minutes. That was before it got to be this late and she’d fallen asleep.

Lisa put her book down and came over to help him, but Miranda woke up anyway and immediately asked about whether her daddy was okay. He knew which one she meant.

“He’s fine, baby. I’m gonna go in and see him now. You wanna come, too?” Len asked, figuring she’d just stay a few minutes and then Len would stay a bit longer to talk to Mick alone.

“Yes! Please, Daddy!” Miranda was already gripping his shirt and giving him these puppy eyes that could almost always make him say yes to anything like magic.

Mick would roll his eyes every time, as if that look didn’t have the same exact effect on him.

“Okay, okay. Come on, we’ll go in together,” Len said, taking her hand in his hand walking with her, bodyguards and Lisa following along, until they stopped at a door with the appropriate number.

Len wasn’t sure if he should knock, but it felt weird to knock on his own husband’s hospital room door so he just slowly opened it and peeked inside.

Mick was lying in a hospital bed, white blanket up to his chest, and he seemed to be wearing one of those hospital gowns if what covered him from the chest up to his shoulders was any indication, and he had IVs and monitors on him. He was still pale, but he was awake.

“Hey. They said you wouldn’t go home like normal people for a rest,” Mick said, voice steady but not quite as strong as it ought to be. But, it had a sleepy quality and Len chose to believe that it was the sedative still wearing off and the exhaustion of everything his body had gone through, rather than actual weakness in his strong husband. Even though if he was going to have a moment of weakness, he certainly earned it.

“Normal people? I don’t think the nurses said it like that at all,” Len argued, though his tone was soft.

Opening the door fully, he led Miranda inside the room and over to Mick’s bed.

“They might’a phrased it kinda different. Same thing,” Mick said, clearly not caring for nuance. That was his Mick alright. “Ain’t it passed your bedtime?” this time he was clearly speaking to Miranda.

“Daddy said you got hurt…are you okay?” the words alone were enough, let alone with the quiet and wary tone she was using, to indicate that seeing Mick like this really did scare her a little.

Maybe he should have listened to Dr. Erly, after all.

“’Course I’m gonna be fine. I just need a little rest for the next few days and then I’ll be good as new. Happens to us grown-ups sometimes. You’ll understand when you’re old like us,” Mick said, reaching out to pat her hair.

Miranda giggled and stepped closer to the bed, “you’re not old, Daddy.”

“M’not?? Well, what’m I doin in here, then? Gonna get right on fixin up this misundersandin in the morning. Until then, though, it really is passed your bedtime.” Mick said, gently pulling her closer by her arm so he could lean over and give her a hug and Len cringed, hoping he wasn’t pulling stitches just so he could do that.

It would be just like Mick, too.

“But, I wanna stay with you…” Miranda said, pouting with a delicately-trembling lower lip.

“Nah, bed’s too small. You go sleep in your own and tomorrow you’ll get to see me all day. You’ll get sick’a me.” Mick was always so good with her.

“I will not!” Miranda insisted, but she was giggling again. It was always like that between those two, Mick was clearly her favorite. Len didn’t mind, he thought it was adorable. Even now.

And that wetness at the corner of his eye was not a tear, it was just that it was so late his eyes were watering. Just a little.

“Go on to your Auntie Lisa now. G’night, Punkin, I’ll see you in the mornin,” Mick kissed her on the forehead and gave her another hug and sent her away. She was reluctant but did what she was told.

“I thought I told you that the husband of the mayor shouldn’t use words like “ain’t” and should stop dropping the “g” from their “i-n-g” words.” Len commented, moving to sit in the chair next to Mick’s bed. He was aware that his tone was a little weak but he ignored it and hoped Mick would, too.

“It’s in the dictionary,” Mick replied and Len couldn’t help, even now, rolling his eyes at the reply. It was an old argument between them, but it was a relief to have it. At this point it was just fond teasing between them instead of arguing. It also let him know that Mick really would be okay, if he was feeling up to this familiar teasing.

“Not everything in the dictionary is a word, Mick,” Len informed and couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped him when Mick gave him his best ‘it’s a good thing you’re pretty,’ look.

“So why ain’t you got any rest since I been in here? They told me it’s been hours. You didn’t even go home and change clothes,” Mick said, eyeing Len’s rumpled suit sans tie and jacket.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because the last time I saw my husband was when he was bleeding profusely from a bullet wound and I was a little bit concerned,” Len said, raising an eyebrow at his husband because of course he stayed right here!

“I had to, it was you they was shooting at,” Mick said, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, like commenting on the weather.

“That’s what I have bodyguards for, Mick,” Len said, trying to make his tone firm but all he could feel was relief that he hadn’t lost his husband today. He’d always thought, when he let his mind wander to unspeakable things like this, that he’d be angry at Mick if he pulled a heroic stunt like this for his benefit…but all he could do was feel such incredible relief that Mick wasn’t dead.

“They was too slow,” Mick pointed out, same simple tone as before.

Len looked to the side a bit, remembering the sudden sound in the air, the way he hadn’t had enough time to even realize what that sound was before the feeling of his husband’s strong, solid body rammed into him hard enough to hurt, hard enough to wind him, sending him careening to the ground a few literal feet away.

His husband’s strong, solid body knocking into him, the muffled thud it had made, the sound that had come out of him when all the air in his lungs had been suddenly and unexpectedly forced out of him.

That sudden thud, his husband’s body a wall of solid muscle as it knocked him to safety.

The feel of that. He could still feel it. And a moment later the realization and everything rushing at once and the blood.

What if that had been the last time he felt his husband’s body against him? The moment he’d been knocked out of the way of an assassin’s bullet. Never again to feel so much as a hug from his husband, but to always remember that feeling of being knocked aside was the last time…

He shivered and felt a hand on his.

Mick’s hands were usually warm, but right now the one touching him was cold.

“Don’t cry, Len…everything’s fine. I’m fine,” Mick’s voice was quiet and the hand on Len’s gave a squeeze.

“You almost weren’t,” he said, quietly, giving a slight sniff. “What were you thinking, Mick?”

“That my husband was in danger and nobody else was movin,” Mick answered, not letting up on the squeezing.

Len huffed, wanted to argue further, but he was sure it wasn’t good for Mick right now. Besides, he couldn’t honestly say he wouldn’t have done the same.

“Don’t cry…” Mick let go of Len’s hand and reached up to run the pad of his thumb gently over the corner of Len’s left eye, taking away the wetness.

“I’m not crying, my eyes are just watering,” Len insisted, because he could be stubborn too and it didn’t count as crying unless the tear actually fell. Until then it really could just be his eyes watering.

“That’s why you should’a gone home and got some sleep,” Mick replied, because apparently after saving his life and taking a bullet for him, Mick now had to lecture Len on his sleeping habits.

Not that that wasn’t a familiar argument, as well, since his job kept him up late a lot of the time.

“I’m not tired, just dehydrated,” Len countered, and no he did not just sniffle.

“You’re dehydrated so your eyes are watering? Not sure the body works like that, babe,” Mick said in his best ‘nice try’ voice.

“I don’t want to leave you…” Len finally admitted, so quietly he barely heard it himself.

“Ain’t goin nowhere,” Mick reassured, moving his hand back down to Len’s hand again.

“I want to stay here and make sure…” Len knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it and they’d already decided that Lisa would stay at his and Mick’s place tonight so she would be with Miranda.

There was a long pause before Mick finally let go and started to move things around on the bed a bit.

“What are you–”

“Get in,” Mick said, patting the area right next to him.

“I don’t want to hurt you…” Len was pretty sure that wasn’t doctor recommended.

“You won’t. Bullet wound’s on the other side. Get in,” Mick repeated, looking like he honestly didn’t see the problem here.

“Didn’t you just tell Miranda the bed was too small for her to climb in, too?” Len raised an eyebrow at his husband, but he found himself toeing off his shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, ‘cause I knew you wanted to talk alone and she needed to sleep in her own bed. Which is where you need to be, but since you ain’t gonna do that we’re doin it this way. You gotta get some sleep, Len, or you’re gonna keel over. Have you looked in a mirror?” Mick’s tone was worried as he reached out to carefully coax Len down with a hand on his shoulder, both of them watching out for IV wires.

“Did you just…did you just tell your husband he looks ugly? That’s cold, Mick…” Len tried to joke and that absolutely was not wetness on his cheek.

“No, I just told my husband he’s a stubborn jackass that needs to get some shut-eye,” Mick huffed as a reply, then winced because apparently huffing wasn’t the best of ideas right now.

Len gave him a worried look, but Mick gave him an annoyed one right back and they both worked together to situate the blankets.

The bodyguards stayed outside the room for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally have no idea who that PA is or what his name is. I labeled him an OMC but really...he could be an established character. I just never could decide. :p So, it looks like Len appreciates him but doesn't remember what his name is, which is weird and not at all my intention but that's what happens when the author is irresponsible and indecisive.
> 
> Yes, I know that cold pun doesn't apply on Earth 2, but I couldn't help myself.
> 
> I'm not sure if I should bump that rating up to Mature or not, but so far I've decided against it.
> 
> I'm sorry about the title...


End file.
